Hello, all! This is the first fanfic I've decided to post, though not the first I've written. This is perhaps a bit AU; if it's a little confusing, let me know and I'll try to make the idea clearer. Any terms/name meanings will be posted at the end of each chapter. I guess that's it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize no matter how often I impersonate it.

There was a silence as the tribe's deputy paced back and forth over the broken pavement. A growl was in the queen's throat, her claws unsheathed, her green eyes narrowed. She paused, knowing that she would be unable to carry out any punishment until the leader decided the necessary action that would be made. There had been more tension in the tribe than ever, but even panic was not an acceptable excuse. The stupid black tom had gone and caused harm to one of the other tribes, not even giving his reason. Perhaps he was just a sadist.

Old Orrthannan emerged from his den, and every cat lowered themselves in submission, even though the tom had long since been blinded in battle. The traitor, Samhain, who had decided to jeopardize the peace they had with all the other tribes by attacking a dweller of the junkyard Jellicles, showed no remorse. He sat proudly, almost smug at his accomplishments, in front of the leader and his second in command. The deputy narrowed her eyes. An attack on one tribe meant you were the lowest of the low and no one would trust you.

"I would have expected better behavior from a senior warrior," Orrthannan rasped, unseeing eyes directed at the tom in front of him. "Why did you do such a thing? An attack on one of our allies is an attack on us all."

"Don't you realize, old man? This Age is ending. You're old, and whoever heard of a queen heading this tribe?" Samhain narrowed his eyes at Zibia, who sat stony still despite the anger blazing in her own.

"I find Zibia is more than capable of heading our tribe. She's proved that in my absence. Besides – why do you think she's my deputy?" Orrthannan rubbed his cheek against the queen's, who returned the gesture. They then sat incredibly still. "You shall walk the Path of Bone. I hereby announce this as your exile, Samhain." The tribal cats, who had lined the vacant lot in silence, filed out into two long lines. Zibia stood and took her place at the end of the lines.

"Walk," she snarled to the black tom, who dragged himself to his feet and stalked to the head of the lines. He bounded through as cats reached out and struck at him, biting and scratching anyway they could. He lept easily over the battle-scarred deputy, but, expecting such a move, she rose up on her hind legs and drug her claws through the soft fur of his underbelly. A growl came from his throat and he landed less than gracefully. He walked a few paces and threw a glance over his shoulder.

"This is the end of the Age," he hissed before slinking out beyond the fence.

-x-

"Momma? What's going to happen now?" Zibia glanced down at her apprentice, hiding the twitch caused by the young cat's habit of referring to her as her mother. "Samhain said the Age is going to end."

The brown tabby returned to licking the blood from her paws. "The Age isn't going to end. If something...unfortunate does happen to Orrthannan, I'm here. Power goes to the deputy."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you doubting me, Pyewackett?" the older queen teased, reaching out and ruffling her fur. "I totally one hundred percent promise nothing bad is going to happen to our tribe. Okay?" The kit nodded. "You look like you rolled in a dead thing. We have to apologize to the junkyard Jellicles." She rolled her eyes ever so slightly; more often than not, the deputy was annoyed by them. The young tortoiseshell smiled at her, noticing that the queen looked less than thrilled. Her eyes were narrowed and she was licking her chest fur slowly. She really was as lazy as her brothers said she was. "You've never met the junkyard cats, have you?"

"No. You say they sing and dance."

"They do. It's so flippin' annoying. Never sing or dance or do anything that a warrior wouldn't do. EVER."

"I thought we were all about peace."

"Yes. But we don't dance."

"You taught me to dance once. 'Cause you can't fight unless you know how to dance."

"Who told you that?"

"You did."

"Oh. Forget that."

Orrthannan, after being led by the healer, gently rubbed his cheek against the deputy's. "Are you all ready?"

"Of course, sir," the two queens answered.

-Orrthannan- Gaelic, enchantment

-Samhain- Another name for Halloween

-Zibia- Doe

-Pyewackett- traditional witch's familiar name, and also the name of the cat from John Wan Druten's Bell, Book, and Candle